India #2: Asia Christian Academy in Bangalore

After spending last Sunday morning singing and praying with our friends in Lucknow, we headed to the airport for our 3½ hours of SpiceJet flights south to Bangalore.  We parted ways with Siona during our layover in Delhi so he could rejoin the Malakar’s to prepare music for the upcoming church retreat.

It was evening when we arrived at the newish Bangalore airport built on government-purchased village land outside the city.  As we stepped outside, it was as though God had turned on the air conditioner (which He had).  Lucknow’s 100+ degrees with almost full humidity gave way to Bangalore’s 75 degrees and an earth cleansed by monsoon rains.

Our purpose for this part of the trip was to visit three different institutions to learn as much as possible about theological education and leadership training in India.  Eric is fully resolved to spend his life doing church-centered theological education in India, Nathan is committed to spreading this kind of vision by revamping Christian education and holding the rope stateside, and I’ve been interested for several years in theological education and leadership training overseas.  We wanted to visit different schools to learn about their history, purpose, vision, faculty, curriculum, leadership, logistics, opportunities, challenges, and methods.  As we prepared for the trip over the last several months, the Lord providentially connected us with Asia Christian Academy (ACA), Baptist Seminary of South India (BSSI), and Maranatha Baptist Bible College & Seminary (MBBCS).

ACA’s full-time driver (Stephen) picked us up outside the airport and we began the hour-long drive into the city.  Around 10:00pm we arrived at the home of ACA president Dr. Joy George.  He came to the door with his glasses and a book, sure marks of a DTS Ph.D. graduate and president of an established South Indian seminary.  What was unusual was the natural, unpretentious warmth of his hospitality.  It was humbling to be invited so nonchalantly into the home of a man of such position and experience.  He led us to the upstairs area whose size and guest-friendly layout instantly indicated to us that the George home also functions as a hotel.  They have visitors 75-80% of the time, they later told us.  Considering their hospitality, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve entertained angels without knowing it (that’s not a joke).

Downstairs over dinner, we began asking questions and started hearing the incredible story of Dr. George and ACA.  Several decades ago he deeply desired to study the Bible in America, so he flew to Dallas with $8 in his pocket.  Not knowing anyone but the Registrar with whom he had communicated (and who was out of town), he contemplated his options on the curb at Love Field.  Deep into the night, he decided to pay $5 for a taxi to Dallas Seminary.  Upon arrival, he wandered around until finally knocking on the door of a dormitory where he was given an empty room for the night.  In the morning he found an iHop and bought the cheapest breakfast item available with his remaining $3.  Eventually he found a place to stay, enrolled in classes, began building relationships, and adjusted to life in the country of Texas.  During his time at DTS he bent over backwards to help other new Indian students because he had been forced to learn so much on his own through trial and error.  He showed them around campus, directed them to grocery stores, showed them his strategies for saving money, helped them dress and eat inexpensively, and explained American culture and the DTS subculture.  In our brief stay at the George’s it became quickly apparent that this selfless servant’s heart is why he and his wife have so many visitors and supporters now.  He is a living example of Proverbs 11:25 – “Whoever brings blessing will be enriched, and one who waters will himself be watered.”

Upstairs that night, I was heading to bed when I saw the dim glow of a television in the living area.  I walked in to greet our driver and the 15-year-old orphan boy who works for the George’s as they pay for his schooling.  They were watching the final ten minutes of Roger Federer’s record-breaking Wimbledon victory over Andy Roddick.  It was one of those seamless blends of culture where the relative lack of communicative ability actually enhances the experience.  We didn’t speak each other’s languages very well, but we all spoke sports.

In the morning we made the hour drive to ACA and unpacked at the George’s campus home where they stay most of the week.  Eric addressed the 115 graduate students from Titus 1:9 — “He must hold firm to the trustworthy word as taught, so that he may be able to give instruction in sound doctrine and also to rebuke those who contradict it.”  We began getting used to being the “guest speakers” and “visitors from America.”  It’s been a bit strange for us, simple group of young friends that we are, to be treated as the distinguished speakers and honored entourage.

After chapel Professor Joy John took us on a tour of the impressive facilities, including the kitchen and dining center, considerable garden, 30-child orphanage, multiple dormitories, faculty and staff housing, administration building, faculty offices, substantial library, campus hospital, small department store, land cleared for the planned 800-person auditorium, and an elementary and secondary Christian school with a bussed-in enrollment of 1,260.  We were a thorough distraction to the children as we walked along the balcony next to their classrooms, yet it was a joy to know that many children from Hindu backgrounds were attending the school due to its reputation for high-quality education.

After breaking for lunch, we spent an hour and a half with the 10-member faculty asking questions and taking copious notes.  This was a rare opportunity for three young men to have access to the established faculty of a solid, reputable Indian seminary.  We gained lots of insight, and even the answers that were predictable were now confirmed.  We took a group picture outside the new administration building at the head of the campus and exchanged contact information with several men (like the Dean of Students!).  Joy John then took us to visit a small village next to the school to get a taste of village life, and then on to Hosur Bible Church, a small local body jointly pastored by an ACA professor and graduate.  We returned for 5:00 tea at Professor John’s house and spent almost two hours in stirring conversation about theology and ministry.  We left thoroughly impressed with Professor John — his biblical understanding, theological depth, balanced wisdom, evident passion, and constant grace.  I would gladly have him for my professor.

We were given the opportunity to lead the evening assembly, and instead of choosing one of us to speak, we decided to lead three informal discussion groups so that we could hear about the students’ stories and perspectives.  When the students in Nathan’s group clapped about something he said, I would tell my group to clap for me, and each of our groups joined into an impromptu cheering competition.  And when Nathan’s robust voice echoed around the marble-floored room and hindered our discussions, Eric told him to quiet down and I told my group that when God made Nathan, he designed him with a microphone on the inside.  They laughed more riotously than the joke deserved, and it kicked off another brief back-and-forth among the groups.  It was a fun time, and we gained some helpful insights from them (for instance, they said they like all the visiting professors because they’re so easy!).

We returned for dinner at the George’s campus home with an eclectic group of a dozen.  I told them that I wish I could see a fast-forwarded overhead video of their dining room table over the years — what a group could be assembled from the history of the George’s hospitality!  I slipped away from the table around 9:00pm to meet a new student in front of the empty House of Worship.  He had said he wanted to meet with me later, and we were able to spend an hour talking about a recently-broken relationship with the love of his life.  From there we walked to the dormitories to visit the three specific room numbers that students had given me after the evening assembly when I said I wanted to visit them in their rooms later.  It was a blast re-living my RD days and hanging out with the students in the dorms — lounging on their beds, talking about life, laughing into the late hours, praying with them and for them.  Sometimes I wouldn’t mind re-hiring myself as an RD and then resigning as the Dean (notice the strategic order)!

We awoke Tuesday morning with a brief teacher’s devotional to give (Nathan) and a ride to catch to Baptist Seminary of South India, closer to Bangalore proper.  We departed ACA full of gratitude for a rich 36 hours of insight and fellowship, but even more for the God-empowered history of biblically grounded education that has sent so many well-trained laborers into the ripe and heavy harvest of South Asia.

As we left, we passed the massive half-built concrete phallus that an enemy of the gospel had attempted to build right across from the school’s entry, to spite ACA and to honor the gods.  After months of prayer and the patient recognition that no human power could put a stop to this disgrace, the construction suddenly halted one day, and no one knows what happened to the builder.  Soon a small store appeared in front, partially blocking the idol from view, and now there is also a small tree serving as an added obstruction.  We left with a powerful and multi-faceted lesson:  this is a dark land, the gospel is strongly opposed, but God is still on His throne.

India #1: New Delhi, Gurgaon, Lucknow

I’m currently entering the second week of a three-week trip to India.  I hadn’t mentioned it here before and wasn’t planning on it for several different reasons, but some of those reasons have faded.  You’ll understand more if you can translate and read between the lines.

I’m here with friends Eric Zeller, Nathan Gunter, and Siona Savini.  This trip was conceived as an individual trip to see my younger brother in Delhi, and it slowly morphed into a group trip visiting four separate cities and multiple friends.  We’re spending time with the Smith’s in Lucknow, visiting and speaking at several training institutes in Bangalore, and spending most of our time with my brother and the Malakar’s in Delhi along with their NGO and local body.

I met up with Eric and Nathan in Chicago last Thursday for the fourteen-hour flight into New Delhi.  We slept, talked, and studied, since we’re all speaking multiple times.  Halfway into the flight they called for a physician, and a woman got up from a few rows behind us and walked up the aisle to a man a few rows in front of us.  After looking at him for a few minutes, they put a blanket over his head.  Nathan and I began thinking he might be dead, but thought there would be more commotion if that were the case.  We made no emergency landing, but grew increasing suspiciously.  Everyone was calm, and at one point, the male attendant stopped and asked under his breath if we could keep our observations under wraps because some people might get concerned.  Upon arrival it was confirmed to us (though not publicly) that he had died midflight, so they had leaned him up against the window and covered him.

After deplaning we approached the “Health Check” and I inadvertently coughed right in front of the man behind the desk.  He instantly went into action, checking my pulse and asking me about other symptoms.  They had me get out of line and sit down, and they took my temperature.  I told them I’ve had a tickle in my throat since childhood, so small sporadic coughs are normal to me, but that doesn’t hold much weight when everyone’s (rightfully) concerned about H1N1.

We went through customs, grabbed our bags, exchanged money, purchased a SIM card, and hopped in a taxi to Hotel Le Seasons.  The pushy taxi-driver scene outside the airport wasn’t as bracing as I’m sure it is for most, because it reminded me of Egypt and even Uganda a bit.  These feelings of familiarity have been a significant part of the trip.  I’ve been told over and over again, even by seasoned travelers, that “India’s just so different, and you’ll be shocked,” but it hasn’t happened too much yet.  Perhaps I’m not in the right (sensitive) frame of mind, or just haven’t seen much yet.  I certainly know that the latter is true, though that changes the longer we’re here.  This is not to say that we haven’t seen any disturbing things yet.  But the disturbance isn’t entirely foreign.  Right now I’m thoroughly enjoying the experience.  We’ll see how the rest of the trip goes.

We enjoyed a surprisingly restful first night and awoke with a mid-day flight to catch and a few hours free in the morning.  We took a taxi to nearby Gurgaon, a very modern area with more large construction projects than I’ve ever seen in one area (though I wonder how many are on pause due to the economy) along with a peppering of massive malls.  They checked for bombs under the car with a wand sensor and an angled rolling mirror to slide under the vehicle, and we got plenty of looks as a group of white guys carrying oversized hiking packs through the mall before any of the shops were open.  As usual in more third-world countries, I was ashamed and angered by the Western influence in materialism, advertisements, and especially (im)modesty.

After visiting several malls, we headed to the domestic terminal to catch our one-hour flight east to Lucknow.  We met up with Siona there, grabbed Indian-flavored pizzas from Pizza Hut (we didn’t know the more traditional Indian food was around the corner), and hopped on our flight with Kingfisher airlines.  Kingfisher is a prominent beer company in India, and they’ve expanded into other areas such as the airline industry.  They’re distinguished by their solid red color scheme, high-quality service, and “personally selected” stewardesses wearing red skirts and outfits that look strikingly non-Indian (see the end of the previous paragraph).

Mid-flight I read five or six full pages of Friday’s edition of The Times of India.  The top story was the Delhi-area revision of Section 377, a legal decision that decriminalizes homosexual intercourse.  Page after colorful page of The Times touted this decision as a long-awaited stone through the window of antiquated traditional values.  In five or six pages I noted at most two brief columns representing the dissenting view, but these were dwarfed by celebrity quotes, parade pictures, and one-sided articles assuming that this is indisputably a step in the right direction.  The joke was that this ruling was the one thing that could unify Hindu, Muslim, and Christian leaders.

An hour after leaving Delhi we deplaned in Lucknow and walked several hundred yards across the tarmac in the robust North Indian heat.  We had a happy reunion with our old friend who spent several years working in Varanasi and has recently moved to Lucknow with his wife and daughter.  He asked which of us had been to India or a similar country, and put the least-experienced guy on the back of his motorcycle, with the rest of us in a pre-paid taxi.  It’s fun to be with someone that doesn’t just answer questions but actively seeks to give everyone the full experience.  We took off on the left side of the road and enjoyed the thirty-minute ride through typical Indian traffic — small cars, large trucks, pedal bikes, motor bikes, bicycle rickshaws, two-stroke auto rickshaws, and pedestrians of all ages walking along or across the street at all angles and with all manner of belongings and merchandise.

Our friends have been in Lucknow for less than a month, but have been in northern India for almost four years.  They have a good grasp on Hindi language, culture, and religion, which filled our two days with many hours of rich and insightful conversations and made it all the more enjoyable to observe their interactions with the people.  The culture is intertwined with Hinduism, and the religion’s combination of long-standing history, intricate development, philosophical diversity, and metaphysical depth quickly revealed its challenging and fascinating complexities.  As with the 750-foot-deep water table in the south, it takes a deep well of wisdom to draw it out.  We were blessed to be spending time with friends who are thoughtful, insightful, perceptive, well-studied, and articulate.

During our two days we took turns on the back of the motorcycle, ate local mango, took a risk with some sort of roadside betel nut wrap, visited a small leadership training center outside the city, paid the exorbitant ticket price for foreigners (20x) at the site of an Indian revolution for independence (The Residency, 1857), played as much as we could with their almost-three-year-old Indian daughter, and asked incessant questions about life and work in India.  I can’t imagine a more enjoyable or instructive time.  Before leaving on Sunday, we enjoyed a very meaningful time of singing and prayer, reminding us of the preciousness of fellowship.

We departed for Bangalore (southern India) with our hearts and minds full, ready to spend the next few days learning about leadership training methods at Asia Christian Academy, Baptist Seminary of South India, and Maranatha Baptist Bible College & Seminary.  I hope to give an update about this part of the trip in the next few days, pending our schedule.

God, the Gospel, and the Global Cause of Christ: Reflections on Adoption

They call it a “paper pregnancy.”  It’s the period of time between the conception and finalization of your adoption.  There’s no positive pregnancy test, no hormonal upheaval, no morning sickness, no amazing ultrasounds, no growing belly, no random food cravings, no little feet-kicks coming from the womb, and no agonizing labor pains and delivery.  Yet each of these finds its reflection in the paper pregnancy.

Ours was nineteen months long.  We decided to adopt in December of 2005, and I picked up my wife and our 18-month-old Ugandan son at the airport on July 13, 2007.  Our positive pregnancy test was the U.S. government’s acceptance of our application.  Our hormonal turmoil was the onslaught of emotions that flow from the ups and downs of pioneer adoptions in African countries.  The morning sickness came in frustrations of all kinds, from paperwork pains to cross-governmental headaches to the dizziness and nausea caused by the rollercoaster of international bureaucracy.  The surreal ultrasound came in the first picture we ever received of the baby boy we were “matched up” with, and the periodic arrival of pictures over the months functioned as so many kicks and somersaults in the womb reminding us that our son was real, alive, and growing.  As the process lengthened, the anticipation bulged, and at the end of it all came the agonizing labor pains of my wife’s second trip to Uganda and her final week in the capital city — which she will tell you was the most hectic and hair-raising week of her life.

Why go through this?  The same question that women throughout the centuries have asked in the pangs of delivery can be asked of those who have chosen to walk through a predictably intense adoption.  Why?

It wasn’t because we wanted a kid and couldn’t have one on our own.  We’re a young couple, and we actually just wanted to adopt first.  Scripture doesn’t have a Plan B view of adoption.  We’ve never discovered a verse presenting adoption simply as a second-rate way to grow a family.  We’re overjoyed at friends who decide to adopt because they can’t have biological children, and their children are no less blessed because adoption wasn’t their parents’ initial choice.  But family-building is not the main motivation for helping the fatherless.

Rather, the highest and best motivation for adopting is the gospel of Jesus Christ.  The spiritual impulse to adopt runs far deeper than cute international babies, cross-cultural experiences, and family growth.  The impulse to adopt echoes from the very heartbeat of the gospel.

We ourselves have experienced the grace of adoption, and on a much grander scale.  We were slaves of sin, but are now children of God (Romans 8:15).  God was our judge, but now He is our Father (John 1:12).  We faced a foreboding future in hell, but now we anticipate an abundant inheritance in heaven (Romans 8:16-17).  God is the Father of the fatherless (Psalm 68:5), and He has made Himself that for us through Jesus Christ.  Adoption is in our blood.  Adoption is in God’s blood.

Adoption has been called the crown jewel of redemption, because even justification and reconciliation do not have to include adoption.  God could have rescued us from sin and death without becoming our Father.  It is possible to have reconciliation without sonship, to have justification without adoption.  We could have been predestined, foreknown, called, justified, sanctified, and glorified without being adopted, because a declaration of righteousness is not the same as a declaration of sonship.  Yet those of us who are in Christ are far more than former debtors and forgiven criminals.  We are God’s children.

At 11:36 AM on Friday, November 16, 2007 at the Children’s Court in Monterrey Park, California, Judge John L. Henning declared that Judah David Mukisa Gundersen is the legal son of David and Cynthia Gundersen, with all the rights and privileges of a natural born child, including inheritance.  We swore under oath that we would treat him as such, and the judge signed the court order to that effect.  Although this was the first time we had walked through this process, these weren’t strange words to us.  For years we’ve read them in the Bible.  These words are our story.

This is why Jesus’ earliest followers wrote things like this in their letters:  “Pure and undefiled religion in the sight of our God and Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world” (James 1:27).  This call to help the helpless resounds in the heart of all who have been “visited” by God in Christ and who have been helped in our “distress.”

The need of orphans worldwide is literally incalculable.  Their “distress” is severe.  And we have the gospel, a family, and a home (in that order).  With all of this in mind, the thought of us not helping orphans is unthinkable.  We adopt, because He first adopted us (1 John 4:19).

With international adoption, there’s another element at play.  God loves diversity, and we love diversity with Him.  Unity in the midst of diversity is beautiful because it displays the singular glory of the one who binds the diversity together.  Jesus Christ is praised in the book of Revelation because, as the four living creatures and the twenty-four elders cry out, “You were slain, and purchased for God with Your blood men from every tribe and tongue and people and nation” (Revelation 5:9).  God’s family is colorful, because God is creative and because the bond of Christ is strong.  This is magnificent to us, and for as long as I can remember I’ve wanted our family to mirror this every-tribe-tongue-people-nation diversity.  The loveliest family in all the universe is God’s, and its loveliness is well worth reflecting.

Finally, a word about adoption and the global cause of Christ.  Missions means spreading the name of Jesus Christ to every nook and cranny of every people group on the planet by crossing cultures and languages and geographical boundaries to reach them, whether they be urban socialites or desert nomads or tribal villagers.  International adoption means spreading the name of Jesus Christ into the hearts and lives of every people group on the planet by crossing cultures and languages and ethnic barriers to bring the smallest and neediest of the world’s population into our homes, making them part of our families, and investing the gospel into their lives from the backyard to the dinner table to the bedside.  Adoption and the global Christian mission are inseparable.

This is why, at the end of it all, we want to bring the children of the nations into our family.  Not so that they can grow up and live the American Dream, but so that by God’s grace they can grow up and walk the narrow road.  Running water, medical care, and a sound education are precious and valuable things.  But seeing the glory of Christ, hearing the good news of salvation, finding reconciliation with God, and walking in a manner worthy of the incarnate Savior of the world is infinitely more precious.

And so we seek to adopt — as those who have been freely adopted ourselves into a beautifully diverse family unified in the death, burial, and resurrected reign of Jesus Christ; as those who have been called to the outreaching of global missions and the inbringing of Christian adoption; and as those whose hearts long not for the security and comfort of the American Dream but for radical lives of incarnational love.

Every day, I see all of this and more in the bright eyes and brilliant smile and childlike faith of my son.  I see the grace of God; I see the gospel of Christ; I see the diversity of the church; and I see the call of the Christian mission.  And perhaps most of all, I see that it is no small thing to be a child, and no small thing to have a Father.

For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry out, “Abba!  Father!”  The Spirit Himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs — heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with Him in order that we may also be glorified with Him (Romans 8:15-17).

* Originally written for The Master’s Current (Spring 2009) 15/1, p. 14.

Our Second Adoption

Our family recently started our second adoption.  We have told many of our close friends and family, and wanted to publicize it here so that you can know and pray.  We are attempting to adopt at least two children from Rwanda, which sits on the southwest border of Uganda.  So far we have completed some initial paperwork and finished our home study.  We don’t have a prediction for how long the process will take, and even if we did, we would hesitate from putting too much stock into it after our last experience.  God has promised us bigger things than a timeline, and we desire to look to those bigger things mainly and most often.

We would deeply appreciate your prayers.  So many prayed during our last adoption, and increasingly so as things got hairy.  Eternity may reveal that this was the reason why God chose to bring it to completion — His people asked.  You can pray for the following:

1. That we might lean on God and not on our previous adoption experience.
2. That God would protect us from presumption and would keep our hands open even while parental love begins to knit our hearts to the children we meet.  That we would be wise with our hearts between the time of introduction and finalization, but that our love and affection would not be bridled.  That we might care for them as His children even before they become (or even if they never become) ours.
3. That God would continue to provide financially and that our faith would grow and blossom.  That God would grant us self-discipline and foresight in stewardship.
4. That our Father would providentially give us to the children that He has for us, and that He would prepare our hearts to respond with joy to the children He places in our family.  Ask that He would wisely oversee their number, ages, genders, health, experiences, and needs.
5. That God would fill us with clear biblical wisdom to teach our young son about the grace of adoption and the mercy of the gospel.
6. That God would help us and others not to identify ourselves as an adopting family but a Christian family, and that our relationships would be flavored with the adoption but not overwhelmed with it.
7. That God would stir others to adopt through watching us walk through the process again, and that those who are standing at the edge would jump.
8. That God would give my wife special diligence, attention to detail, perseverance, and patience as she completes the mounds of paperwork and navigates the procedural, governmental, and international issues.
9. That we would be a testimony for Christ and not for ourselves among the many government officials, orphanage workers, and inquiring strangers whose paths we will cross.
10. That God would give us the desire of our hearts by bringing two or more Rwandan orphans into our home for life.
11. That God would glorify, honor, and publicize Himself and His love for His children (including us and orphans) through this adoption.

I want to give a special, public note of thanks to the dozens of people who kicked off this adoption financially last year with a significant monetary gift that was collected to help us.  There may only be several who visit this blog – God knows who you are – but I want you to know that we are more grateful than we can say.  I can picture like yesterday the moment the gift was presented.  If the Lord wills, someday we will tell your story to some grown Rwandan children who will then realize that their family was much larger than they thought.  You have seen and have believed that God is a father to the fatherless, and you have joined Him in this.  We thank you.  May your reward in heaven be great.